The Gods Be Hanged
by TheSilverSleeper
Summary: Arthur was the king. He had to do it. He made the right decision. At least that's what he keeps telling himself. And he's hoping, praying, that if he says it enough Merlin will believe it too. AU The Secret Sharer
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm still awake, so it still counts as Wednesday! Is the excuse I'm using because my sleep schedule is wonky when I'm in hospital. So, this is going to be a rather dark, angst fic. And when I say rather, I mean probably a lot. Probably even featuring semi-Dark!Merlin. Let me know in the comments just how dark you want me to go.**

**Warnings: Angst. More angst than I currently have antibodies.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, but I'm working on my plans for world domination and that's at the top of the list.**

* * *

Arthur was _not_ hiding. He had no reason to _hide._ He was the king. He was the bloody king, and he had made a decision, a decision he was sticking by, the gods be hanged, and if anyone had a problem with it, they could just… could just…

The news would be getting out soon. The doors of his chambers would be smashing open. Guinevere would be accosted in the corridors for information on his whereabouts (until she heard why, and then she would be on his trail, too). The knights would abandon their training to hunt him down to slash into him instead of the dummies or each other.

So, no, Arthur was not hiding. This was a simple matter of self-preservation.

And if he _was_ hiding from anyone (which he certainly _wasn't_), it was from those knights. Yes, they were the ones he didn't want to find him, them and their pointy swords.

Arthur didn't care if a certain someone else found him. He was not scared of him.

Not at all.

He began to hear the bellows, echoing up through the stone. _Please don't come up here. Please don't come up here._ Arthur knew he was being ridiculous. He couldn't avoid him forever; couldn't avoid any of them forever. It wasn't like he could live in this tower for the rest of his life.

_I'm the king. I made the right decision. I had to do it. I'm the king._

But the shouts were getting closer. Perhaps not as though the speaker was ascending the staircase, but they were certainly moving towards it. From the wrath in his voice, Arthur knew: he wasn't going to stop searching until he found his quarry. Well, in that case Arthur was going to stay right here and wait. No point in running straight into the arms of his doom.

_I did the right thing. I'm the king. I did the right thing._

If he was aware that he had switched from "I made the right decision" to "I did the right thing" and that these meant entirely different things, he made sure not to inform his mind of the change.

It was another twenty minutes, but eventually there were footsteps on the stairs. He stood, an action he'd avoided before as it meant he risked being seen through the window. It would not do for him to find the king crouching here like a cowering child. (_I am __**not **__hiding_). Arthur didn't bother to turn to look as the door to the tower opened. He couldn't admit it, even now, but he _was _afraid. Afraid of the betrayal he was going to see there. He knew if he did look, he might break, and he couldn't afford to do that, not now. It was going to take all his strength just to get through this conversation.

Luckily he'd had the last hour to attempt to prepare for this. Not that it helped at all.

"We questioned him. He's been consorting with sorcerers; he more or less admitted it. But he lied to me. He was protecting the sorcerer who killed my father. He betrayed me. He betrayed both of us."

There was silence from behind him, and Arthur had a feeling it wasn't due to acceptance of his words, but rather from a complete lack of ability to force words out around his building rage. He could feel it radiating off him. Or perhaps that was his own guilt he was feeling.

"He's a sorcerer himself. We've always known that; my father admitted it to me himself. He always claimed to have stopped, after… after the Purge, but… we should have suspected something before now. I'm sorry. This is my fault. I should have known better."

Still nothing. Arthur was starting to shake with nerves or guilt or exhaustion, he didn't even know as he gripped a hanging candelabrum to keep himself standing. He still couldn't face him. He wasn't sure he could ever face him again. He fell back on the only thing that was keeping him sane.

"I'm the king. I made the right decision. I had to do it."

"Can I see him, sire?"

The quiet question almost broke him. If Merlin had screamed or insulted him or thrown things or attacked him, well, Arthur could take that. He'd been expecting that. But this… cold _respect._ It was nearly unbearable.

Arthur finally turned. Merlin stood at his normal ease, in a perfect servant's pose, hands behind his back. The only thing to indicate anything was troubling him was the tenseness of his jaw as he clenched it and the icy glare in his eyes. Arthur felt his guilt increase even more when he spotted the grass and dirt stains on his trousers from the work he'd been doing earlier in the day. Merlin had looked at him like he'd grown a second head when he'd _ordered_ him to go collect herbs for Gaius. Usually he protested when the servant was off doing anything not for expressly him. But Arthur had needed him away from the castle. Not that he'd ever thought something like this would happen, but just in case, just in _case_, he couldn't bear to have Merlin there if it did.

He was such a coward.

"Of course you can, Merlin," he answered softly.

Merlin spun on his heel and walked off without another word. Arthur gave up all pretences and collapsed again against the stone wall. This wasn't right. This shouldn't be happening.

_"Gaius, I need to know why you lied when you were asking about whether you knew the sorcerer who killed my father."_

_Gaius shifted in his chair. Arthur hated how uncomfortable he looked._

_"Please, Gaius. I don't care how you know him. Pardon me for saying it, but you and he, you're both, well, older. You could have known each other decades ago. But by refusing to tell me tells me that you're trying to protect him now. I don't understand why you would do that, knowing what he did. I thought you and my father were friends."_

_"Arthur, the sorcerer did not kill your father. Uther was dying. He did everything he could to save him. In the end there was nothing that could be done."_

_Merlin had once tried to make him feel better with the same excuse. It was obvious now Gaius had fed him the line first. But he hadn't believed Merlin then, and he didn't believe Gaius now._

_The council chamber doors banged open as Agravaine swept into the room, trailed by two knights. Arthur was relived to note they were two of the newer knights, ones who had not been around Merlin very often. He did think that Gwaine, Leon, and the others would have been convinced to even if ordered, nor was he even sure he wanted them informed of this little inquiry until it had passed._

_Scratch that. He was definitely sure he didn't want them informed of this little inquiry until it was passed. Probably not even then._

_"Sire, we found this in his chambers." Agravaine slapped a large tome down on the table between them. Arthur couldn't actually read any of the writing on the cover, but he'd seen lettering like it before._

_"Gaius?" He hated how pleading his voice sounded. He had to remain in control here! "Gaius what do you have to say about this?"_

_Gaius's eyes flashed briefly to Agravaine in what Arthur could have sworn was veiled hatred before coming back to the king. Now his face held only sadness. He sighed. "Merely that I am disappointed in you, Arthur. That you could not trust me enough to believe me when I say I would never hurt you. I have looked after you since you were born. Clearly I failed you somewhere along the way. I'm so sorry you have come to this. I do beg you; don't let it go on any further. Don't let your fear of betrayal inhibit your ability to trust completely."_

_Arthur swallowed hard. __**I'm the king. I cannot fall apart now. I'm the king. I'm the king.**__ "Gaius?"_

_"Yes, Arthur, the book is mine. Yes, I know the sorcerer. But no, I will not tell you where to find him."_

He'd had no choice. In time, Merlin had to see that. He had to.

It wasn't even just about the magic. No, that wasn't even the main issue. The sorcerer was merely the thing that had cast suspicions onto Gaius in the first place. Arthur hadn't even fathomed to consider a betrayal there.

No, the great irony was that the real reason Arthur had had to do this was Merlin himself.

It hadn't been that long ago. They had been traveling back to renew a treaty with a small border kingdom, one who's former king had recently passed. With everything so restless since he had only just taken over the crown himself, Arthur had been cautious, giving out details sparingly. Yet still, they had hardly begun their journey before they were attacked by a band of mercenaries. Everything was fine –the day Arthur couldn't defend himself from gutless cowards was the day he would hand over his crown to Morgana himself– when suddenly it wasn't. He spun around looking for more foes only to find Merlin sprawled unmoving on the ground.

He never wanted to feel his blood run that cold again.

The idea that once more there was a traitor in Camelot, that once more someone close to him had turned against him… he just didn't understand it. Even as he debated his options with Merlin, he didn't actually _believe_ any of the possible reasons he threw out with the names. When he'd come to his final option and was left with his only remaining blood relative, Arthur had thought nothing could beat the hollowness in the pit of his stomach. He'd been wrong. Hearing that there was another alternative, and that alternative was the man who'd practically been like a father to him –who definitely _was_ like a father to his best friend… that didn't bear thinking about.

But he had to think about it. Because Merlin had nearly died. Because if that ever happened again and Arthur didn't do anything to prevent it, it wouldn't matter if Morgana never succeeded in killing him, because he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

There were footsteps on the stairs again. These weren't Merlin. Arthur didn't care whose they were if they weren't Merlin. Not that he expected Merlin would speak him ever again. Well, that wasn't true. He hadn't yelled at him yet. Right or wrong, Arthur knew he deserved to be yelled at.

He hoped the newcomer was Gwaine. Gwaine was good at yelling.

It was Guinevere. She could do just as good.

"Sire?" He couldn't seem to bring himself to look at her either, but her voice was an odd mix between fury and sympathy. "My lord, Merlin wishes to speak to you in the throne room."

Arthur nodded. Of course, Merlin wanted to yell at him in front of an audience. The boy just couldn't do things in half measures. Well, Arthur would accommodate him. He'd let Merlin shout at him while they paraded through the streets if it made him feel better.

So long as he realized Arthur just couldn't change his mind.

He struggled to his feet, a task not so easily accomplished when he felt like he could sleep for years. Or never sleep again. Guinevere stood with her arms crossed by the door to the tower, her body language clear: don't touch me; don't come near me; I'm not on your side in this. She turned and led the way out down the spiral steps. It wasn't until they were about to emerge at the bottom that she asked,

"How could you do this, Arthur?"

Funnily enough, it was the one question he couldn't answer. Why? He knew _why_. But how he could possibly manage to still be continuing on after today, he honestly had no idea. He wasn't sure he ever would. Only the miracle of physical mechanics was making one of his feet continue to go in front of the other and propel him forward, because he certainly wasn't in charge of doing so.

Servants who had heard stared at him as the passed the corridors, whispering amoung themselves. Several looked angry, others fearful, as though wondering if they were next. If someone as trusted as Gaius could be accused of treason, what did that mean for them? Arthur didn't blame them. Was he not thinking the same? If someone as trusted Gaius could betray him, just who else was willing to?

Just outside the throne room, Guinevere put up a hand to stop him. "I just want you to know: if Merlin is about to tell you he's leaving, which I won't be surprised if he is, I'm going with him. You've gone too far this time, Arthur."

Arthur froze. _L-leaving?_ No, they couldn't leave. Either of them. He was doing this for them. It didn't matter that the traitor only meant harm to Arthur, Arthur only cared about keeping the people he loved safe. He couldn't do that if they weren't here for him to protect. Besides that, he _needed_ Merlin and Guinevere. Needed them to stand beside him and advise him and remind him that he was a dollop head and clot pole and just who he was doing all this torment of stab wounds and concussions and betrayals for.

But his mind was in such a panic he didn't know how to form a coherent argument at the moment to make her see that. In the end all he could choke out was, "And… and if he stays?"

"Then I will stay. But only for him. He's going to need me. After all, someone decided to destroy the rest of his entire support system."

Arthur couldn't help but flinch. Because that was exactly what he was doing. Yes, Merlin always seemed to have lots of friends. He was a friendly person. But there were few he truly opened up to. Guinevere, Gwaine, Gaius, himself. And now there was to be no more Gaius. And no more Arthur, because he could count himself as far remove from friend and confidant as one could get. Which meant he could probably count on Gwaine leaving too. Gwaine loved Merlin. Probably had only stayed this long because of Merlin.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Guinevere. I'm so sorry."

"It's too late, Arthur. Much, much late."

She entered the throne room ahead of him, ignoring all royal protocol. Arthur could see it was packed full. Of course. They all wanted to know what Arthur had to say about this shocking turn of events. The peasants amoung probably wanted to know more what Merlin had to say about it. _Stupid gossiping prats._ He was starting to wish Merlin had chosen to have this conversation, whatever it was, in the safety of his chambers. It wasn't just for his own sake. Merlin was going to yell at him, _needed_ to yell at him if they were ever going to get through this –please, please let them get through this–but after that, Arthur didn't know what the boy would do. Merlin had always been one to be ruled by his emotions. It was one reason why his reaction earlier had been so unsettling.

Arthur sat on his throne, not because it was customary but because he didn't think he could get through this standing. Merlin's face looked even harder than before. Guinevere looked like she wanted to go to him, but one of the knights –Gwaine probably– lay a hand on her arm, and she held herself back. Arthur didn't really see much of this other than out of the corners of his periphery. He only had eyes for Merlin.

"What is to be his sentence, my lord?"

Arthur had thought long and hard about that. Banishment didn't really make sense. He would basically be freely handing the traitor over to Morgana –or whoever he was working for, but when _wasn't_ it Morgana these days?– to give out his magic and information without the need for subterfuge. Imprisonment was his favourite, but Gaius was an old man. He wouldn't survive long in the harsh climate of the dungeons. It would be a slow, painful way to go. Which only left him with one other option. It should have been his only option period, as Agravaine kept gently reminding him. Treason had one sentence.

Death.

Arthur had been down this road before since he became king. Killed a man because the conventions called for it. That man had technically done him wrong as well, attacking him and his company. Arthur had then spared the life of his queen's champion, avoiding war between their kingdoms. In that case killing had brought only strife, while mercy had brought peace.

But Arthur had shown Gaius compassion his entire life, and this was how Gaius repaid him. He _just didn't understand_.

He swallowed hard, trying to get past the lump in his throat. It would not do for his voice to tremble and crack now. It did not matter that he was about to give the most difficult proclamation of his entire life. It did not matter that his best friend and his best knight and his best love and probably even citizen of his entire kingdom were going to walk out on him the minute he said it.

_I did the right thing. Please, Merlin, you have to understand. I had to do it. I did the right thing._

Maybe if he said it enough times he might believe it himself. He hoped so.

"The traitor–" why, _why_ did his throat have to close up there? He couldn't look at Merlin now, couldn't look at anyone, instead stared at a spot on Merlin's chest, noting how it quivered with barely concealed rage or fear or sadness. "He's been charged with treason. He's sentenced to execution at dawn."

"No, he's not."

Now Arthur's gaze snapped up to meet Merlin's. His eyes were hard as steel, but Arthur knew him better than that. There was disappointment there. Just like everyone else kept telling him, Merlin, too, was disappointed. Arthur had let him down. Had failed him. If there was anything left of the king's heart, it would have been crushed right there.

"You think Gaius has betrayed you because he's protecting the sorcerer who killed your father. Gaius says you want him to tell you how he knows him and where to find him. But he will never do that."

Yes, Arthur knew all that. He wasn't entirely sure what point Merlin was trying to make here and how it led to Arthur not having to follow through on the hardest decision of his life.

"But if he did tell you, you would understand. You would understand why he would never, ever give the sorcerer up, no matter what you did to him."

The cold front was slipping a bit, and Arthur could see a bit of desperation start to move into Merlin's speech. What _was_ he trying to say? He'd already figured out this sorcerer was a friend of Gaius's. Was he something more, someone Gaius really would _die_ to protect? A relative? A cousin or brother, even? But Arthur was no stranger to losing close relatives to the evils of magic. His own sister, example.

"Merlin, the sorcerer has committed a crime. Several, in fact. Do not forget that in addition to his act of murdering my father right in front of me, he ensorcelled Guinevere and myself as some kind of petty revenge and as a consequence nearly caused her to be burnt at the stake!"

Merlin did not look like he considered this a good enough reason. In fact, his face was falling more and more, and the breakdown Arthur had been worried about looked to be well on its way.

"Look. If the sorcerer were here in front of me for me to sentence, perhaps things might be different. But until Gaius chooses to tell us where he is or the old man miraculously decides to give himself up, that doesn't seem to be going to happen."

The breakdown stopped and the coldness returned. An almost _happy_ coldness.

"Fine." Merlin held up a flame-filled palm.

"I'm the sorcerer."

It turned out Arthur had a bit of heart left to be crushed after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So, this ended up being less of a Dark!Merlin and more of a NoLongerGivesaCrapIncrediblyAngsty!Merlin. Don't worry, no Evil!Merlin, for the people who were worried.**

**I've listed this as complete, but if I get a really good response to this, I may continue on or do a sequel, I haven't decided. I was thinking about taking October off once I finished ****_Day and Night_**** to plan NaNo (which will be a Merlin fic), but you may be able to convince me (and by may I mean probably; I'm such a pushover).**

**(Sidenote, I've noticed I've been writing from Arthur POV an awful lot lately. Odd…)**

* * *

No one moved. There was a distinct possibility no one even breathed.

Then Merlin lowered his hand, spun on his heel, and marched out of the hall.

For a long moment, everything else remained frozen. Then the silence was broken by –of course– none other than Gwaine.

"Well, then."

That shook Arthur from his reverie. He tore out of the throne room, ignoring the cacophony that was starting to erupt behind him. The corridor was empty, but he knew exactly where he was heading. He kept his mind studiously blank. It would not do to think right now. No, if he paused to think for one moment, he was going to go mad, he was sure of it.

Servants and nobles and guards stared and cried out as their king rushed past them, shoving them to the side, but he ignored them, continuing his beeline to his destination. He threw himself down stairs, stumbling and nearly breaking his neck in a very un-kingly fashion when he rounded a corner and didn't notice a bushel of apples sitting on the floor.

He would be there. He would. And if it was too late, if Arthur had been frozen too long and he was already gone, he would be in the next place Arthur checked, because he had not screwed up that badly, and he could fix this and-

_No. Not thinking._

The guards stood at attention as he dashed past them, twisting his head back and forth to peer into each cell, grinding to a halt as he spotted his quarry a few metres away.

"_How could you be so foolish?_"

"I had no choice. He was going to kill you."

"Merlin, how many times have we have been through this? You cannot continue to allow your first reaction to anyone being in danger to be to throw yourself in their place! I have told you that and told you that from the very beginning! Have you no sense of self-preservation at all, you stupid boy?"

"I won't be in danger. Arthur's not going to hurt me."

"I won't, will I?"

His servant and the physician –who appeared to be at his wit's end from the way he'd been telling the boy off –spun to face him, startled away from their argument. Gaius, who was apparently –_magically_– no longer in his cell, stepped protectively in front his ward, who simply continued to stand where he was, staring stonily ahead.

"Please, Arthur. Please think about this before you do anything. Merlin means you no harm. Despite what it looks like, he has never betrayed you–"

"I killed your father."

Gaius whirled around and smacked the boy upside the back of the head, but Arthur was fairly certain he felt Merlin's hand slapping him in the face instead with the absolute bluntness of his words, the complete lack of shame. Gaius glared at Merlin, but it was more a glare of panic than of anger. "No, you didn't, and you know that." He turned back to the king. "Sire, he didn't. It wasn't his fault. After he passed, _after_, mind you, we found an amulet on Uther's body. Morgana put an enchantment on it so that any attempt to heal Uther would fail. If it wasn't there he might have lived, but its presence meant that any healing spells Merlin tried would ultimately rebound against him and have the opposite effect. But Merlin _did not kill him._"

Merlin didn't say anything to confirm or deny Gaius's defence of him, simply continuing his one-sided staring contest. Arthur didn't blame him. He didn't really know what to say either. So he settled for the obvious.

"Merlin… Merlin was the sorcerer you were protecting. That's why you didn't want to tell us about whether or not you'd actually met him."

"Yes, sire," Gaius answered cautiously, though it was clear it was not the actual question he was worried about. After all, it was obvious Arthur knew the answer to it, so he could cause no more harm in answering it. No, it was the fact that Arthur was asking any questions at all and not shoving his ward immediately into a cell and clapping irons on him or at least ordering someone else to do so that had him on guard, no matter what said mentally-afflicted ward might insist to the contrary. "Obviously _someone_ didn't agree with my methods."

_That_ at least brought Merlin back as an active participant into the conversation. He grabbed Gaius by the elbow and began to tug him forward, marching him past Arthur, who was so surprised by the reaction that once again he did nothing to stop it. "Of course I agreed with them. It's not your fault that some people have no sense of trust or loyalty to people no matter what they do for them, even when they actually _know_ all the things they've done, even those they've known for _their entire lives_, who have only ever had their best interests at heart, because they would rather believe someone who has only been around for a few months, who has given them nothing but poor advice in the past, who they _know _has given them nothing but poor advice in the past, and the reason they're perfectly willing to believe every lie they come up with is all because of some stupid prejudice they learned from a father too blinded by his own bigotry to even consider he was wrong no matter how much evidence either of them were ever presented to the contrary!"

Arthur had stumbled along behind the two, watching numbly as Merlin dragged the physician, who protested the rough treatment, trying to pull his arm out of his ward's grip, but due to his age could do so only slightly. This was what he had been waiting for. This was what he had needed, for his friend to let go and give him exactly what he deserved, to tell him everything he'd done wrong. At Merlin's last words, though, something finally, _finally_, broke through his gnawing guilt. "Magic killed my father!"

Merlin ceased his mad trek to who-knows-where and whirled to meet Arthur again. "_And a sword killed mine_!" he spat in his face. "Yet you don't see me going around condemning every person who even thinks about picking up one of those, do you?"

Arthur gaped. As far he ever heard, Merlin hadn't even _known_ his father. _Just how much more have you been hiding from me?_ "I– I didn't–"

"I know you didn't. And now we both can see exactly why that is that you '_didn't_.' And do you remember what I did when your father died, Arthur? I was there for you, the entire bloody night, and I would have continued being there for you every single day and night beyond. But when my father died? You just left his body in the woods and told me not to cry."

He had no idea what Merlin was talking about. Which was probably Merlin's point.

"So yeah, fine. I concede your point, your majesty. A sorcerer killed your father. But a soldier killed my father before I even got a chance to get to know him, and an arrogant king almost killed the closest thing to a father I had left. Neither of them ever did anything wrong to deserve such a fate. At least Uther actually committed a crime before he served his sentence."

It was hard to say who was more in shock by the bile spewing out of the servant's mouth: Arthur, Gaius, or Merlin himself. Once more Merlin tightened his grip on his guardian –though who was guarding who was debatable at the moment– and pulled him down the corridor. Arthur followed silently at what he hoped was a safe distance not to be yelled at to go away.

It never even occurred to him to bring up that every word that had come out of Merlin's mouth for the last –_has it really only been a few minutes? Perhaps twenty at most?_ –was an act of pure treason and even one was enough reason to at the very least throw him in jail. Because he knew that Merlin was perfectly aware of that. And he also knew that Merlin knew he knew that.

And it was completely obvious that Merlin no longer cared.

Merlin finally let go of his mentor as they arrived in the physician's quarters and headed straight for his room. "Gaius, pack your things, whatever you want to bring with you. I recommend nothing too breakable. I haven't exactly done this spell before. I don't know how durable it is. I promise, I'll try to replace whatever I can't manage."

Gaius gave a quick glance to the king, his fear still plain. "Now, Merlin, I really don't think–"

"Why don't we ask then?" came the harsh reply from the other room. Clattering could be heard as a stack of something heavy fell over. "Sire, what will happen if we stay?"

What would happen? Arthur didn't have a clue. He needed more time to think. What was even happening now? He had arrested Gaius and sentenced him to death. In revenge Merlin had told him he was a sorcerer and had killed his father. Now he was packing for some reason. No, the reason was that he was _leaving_, exactly as Guinevere had said he would. Doing the thing Arthur had said before that he absolutely could not do. Before. Before he had found out… everything.

An everything Arthur had apparently driven him to. When he'd considered the consequences of arresting Gaius, he'd run the scenarios in his head over and over again. Merlin screaming his throat raw. Merlin never speaking to him again. Merlin quitting. Merlin attacking him and trying to beat him to a bloody pulp. Merlin attempting to break Gaius out of the dungeons.

He had to admit that this particular course of events would never have occurred to him in a million years.

At least Guinevere and Gwaine probably weren't going to leave with him now.

Probably.

Arthur knew what he was _supposed_ to do. Knew what Merlin _expected_ him to do. Exactly as he'd done with Gaius. Merlin would be arrested and burnt or hung or beheaded first thing in the morning. But that had been the course of action Arthur had taken with Gaius and look where that had led him. Merlin obviously had no problems breaking prisoners out of cells, so like with Gaius, imprisoning him wasn't an option. But he seemed quite gung-ho for exile, so he would probably definitely stay gone.

If Arthur had wanted him to stay gone.

Because Arthur could come up with as many excuses as he pleased, but the truth was, he didn't _want_ to punish Merlin. He didn't want to kill him or cage him or banish him. If Gaius was to be believed –which after all this he was never going to _not_ do ever again– Merlin had never done anything to him. And it was all such a ridiculous thing for him to realize when not even a few hours ago he had just condemned the only other person in the room with them, a man he'd known and trusted for his entire life, to death on the evidence of an unanswered question and a measly book, that Arthur nearly started laughing at the absurdity of it. Instead he just started shaking in silent hysterics.

Unfortunately Merlin couldn't see him from where he was still throwing his few meagre possessions into his worn rucksack, so he interpreted the king's silence in his own way. "That's what I thought. Are you ready, Gaius? We need to go."

Merlin bounded down the steps, and, if it were even possible, his face darkened further to find the scene in the larger room had not changed from when he'd left it. "Gaius, I'm sorry; I can't replace _everything_."

"Merlin, I'm not leaving."

Arthur's hysterics stilled as he stared at the old man, who slumped tiredly. Merlin blinked for a second, clearly taken aback, before he straightened his shoulders and began bustling about the room. "You're tired after being in the dungeons for so long. Here, I'll pack for you."

"Merlin, I'm old. My place is here. I'm not leaving," Gaius repeated a little more forcefully. A little more quietly and less like he believed it he added, "And I don't think you should either."

Merlin banged Gaius's medicine bag on the table, his tolerance even with his foster-father frayed to its limits. "If you stay, he'll lock you up again, and then he'll kill you." He didn't look at Arthur as he said it, but he didn't need to, the accusatory glare radiated off him.

"No, I won't," Arthur promised quietly. Gaius turned to face him, granting him a proud smile still shadowed with fear, though Merlin kept his gaze pointedly away. "I was trying to find the person who betrayed our route to those mercenaries during the treaty visit. I didn't… I got carried away." He hung his head in shame. It really had started out so nobly. How had it dissolved so quickly?

"I was nearly killed on that trip," Merlin hissed, and even Gaius looked more hurt than before. "Gaius never would have risked my life, even if he had betrayed you."

"I know. I knew that then, and I know that now." He had, and he didn't know how he could have ever been so blind as to ever even suspect Gaius even to question him in the first place.

"You knew it. Too bad you couldn't believe it." Merlin went over and picked up his rucksack from where he'd dropped it by the stairs.

"Merlin… your destiny is to be here," Gaius called after him in one last feeble attempt. Even Arthur could tell that his heart wasn't in it, though.

"No, it isn't. My destiny has never been to be in Camelot. My destiny is to protect him. And I will." He turned finally to face Arthur, and it was gone. The rage, the steel, the darkness. The disappointment still lingered. But it was joined now by something else, the same deep sea of regret echoed by Arthur's heart. "I will, you know. Always."

Arthur thought about begging him to stay, deemed it pointless, and nodded instead. "I know."

Then instead of a spell, Merlin simply walked out of the room, out of the castle, and out of Arthur's life forever.


End file.
